AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“You’re going to regret everything you do to me,” Bronte bit off.
“If I live that long.”
Bronte stared at her enemy. What did that mean? Was The Broker going to kill her too? If so, why?
“Get her in the chair.” The man had a deceptively soft tone. If he were one of her clients, she might believe him harmless. But coming from one of the men who’d kidnapped her, he sounded more like a psycho.
The man who’d carried her in hauled her to her feet—awkward because of the rope binding them together—and tossed her into a wooden seat. She looked up at the scraping noise of wood on wood and saw Angelica dragging a table across the floor. Then the man with the voice of a killer stepped up to the table.
Bronte couldn’t hold his stare. His blue eyes were pale and devoid of feeling. He set a laptop in front of her and opened it.
“You’re The Broker, aren’t you?” she asked as he pulled up a screen.
Wordlessly, he pushed the laptop in front of her.
“What do you want me to do with this?” How she had the nerve to be royally pissed, she didn’t know, but it was better than shaking with fear, so she’d take it.
She squared her shoulders to face the screen. What she saw, WEST would see too. Could she type a message to Jace before Angelica shot her full of drugs again or The Broker ended her life?
She wouldn’t risk it—yet. But if she got the chance, she would damn well take it.
“Log into the Artemis system, Miss Burns.”
She glared at the man while assessing him. He didn’t look very strong, which probably explained his hiring thugs to do the physical stuff like throwing women into vans and chairs. He was average height, with brown hair and patchy stubble on his chin, as if he wasn’t man enough to grow an actual beard.
Not likeherman. Not like Jace.
“I’m not giving away more of my company’s secrets.” She folded her hands.
He moved close and hovered over her. He might not look tough but he had a menacing presence that made her skin prickle with goosebumps and her blood run cold.
“If you want to live to see your boyfriend again, you’ll do as I say and log into the system.”
She couldn’t completely disguise the shudder rolling through her. Compressing her lips, she considered her options. Refuse and be beaten and keep all her files out of the hands of crazy people, or do as he said and pray that Jace reached her soon enough.
Two hands hit the table in front of the laptop. “Do it!” Angelica screeched.
“Rot in hell, you fucking bitch!” Bronte screamed back.
Her parents didn’t cuss often, but they always told her that there was a time and place for bad language and that she should sprinkle it as a seasoning to enhance her meaning. She couldn’t think of a better time to “sprinkle” Angelica with her true feelings.
“Log in so they can get all the software. Then everything will be okay, Bronte.” Angelica’s eyes took on that sadness Bronte had seen back in the van. Or maybe she’d been imagining it—ithadbeen dark back there.
Her former partner—former friend—looked as if she’d aged a decade in the short month since they parted ways. Her ugly hair and pale, sickly complexion warred with each other, giving her an even more downtrodden appearance.
Angelica was no longer the woman Bronte built a company with, on the mission of keeping people safe and helping them. Instead, she’d taken a dark path and joined forces with the man who’d sent her threats and twisted her up by sending her that bloody shirt.
So theydidn’thave the entire program, the very one Bronte and Miles Morgan were forging new territory with.
“Do it, Bronte,” she urged.
She hoped Jace was picking all of this up even as she shook her head.
Please get here, Jace. I need you.
“Bronte!” Angelica brought a fist down on the table, making the computer rattle.
She shook her head again. “How will everything be okay if they don’t need me anymore?”
